


Scenario 20

by rideswraptors



Series: Kastle Scenarios [20]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Graphic Sex, see first part for warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-27 21:52:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16228046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rideswraptors/pseuds/rideswraptors
Summary: “Well, she’s right. Adults do that on purpose sometimes. Make things complicated.“Why?” Leo Lieberman, everyone. From the mouth of babes.“Stupid reasons,” he answered honestly. “Cause they’re scared.”





	Scenario 20

The Liebermans asked him to stay, so he did. That’s just how he was. He sat with the kids in the living room, playing cards while their parents screamed and cried and raged at each other. They were talking, he figured, so it was going well. The kids looked like zombies though; emotional overload. Happy that their father had been returned to them, confused about the whys and hows of it, angry that he’d been gone so long, tired from trying to sort all of it out. Wasn’t fucking fair. That was something Frank could wrap his brain around.

 

“So you’re name’s not Pete?” Leo asked him quietly. “Any fives?”

 

“Go fish. Technically, yes. To you, I’m Pete. You good with that?”

 

She shrugged.

 

“Who are you, then?” Zach asked.

 

“I think your parents should decide how much they want to tell you. But I’m your friend. I’m gonna be around whenever you need me, okay?”

 

“Cool,” Zach answered blankly, seeming smaller than he ever had to Frank. And the kid was pretty small. Sad.

 

“You guys should know that your old man did everything he could to protect you. Keep you safe. And he did the most to get back to you.” _I know that better than anyone_ , he added silently.

 

They both nodded but didn’t say much after that. Other than to get into a spat about cheating. It was almost normal. Almost. Kids were gonna need a lot of therapy to get through this one. He silently promised to be around for them. Lisa and Frank Jr. weren’t around for him to love and guide, but he could help out with these kids. Fuck knew David needed all the help he could get. Leo was a damn handful.

 

Eventually, Sarah and David’s fight morphed into something else altogether, if Frank was hearing correctly. He had to fight to stop himself from laughing because David was _such_ an asshole. So Frank had a hand over his mouth to cover his smirk when David walked into the living room. Didn’t change his expression, though.

 

“ _What_?” he snapped irritably. “Got something to say?”

 

Frank hung his head, waving him off, trying not to fucking giggle.

 

“Nah. Just thinking about mooses.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Dad!” Leo complained. “Language!”

 

“Sorry baby, your Uncle Pete is a douchenozzle.” Inexplicably, Leo and Zach got up to hug their father, and Frank saw the crack in the man’s facade. It was actually pretty nice. David batted a tear away and kissed the tops of their heads. “Go get cleaned up for dinner and help your mom set the table.”

 

Frank leaned back into his seat, absently tossing the deck of cards onto the coffee table as he considered his friend. David didn’t say anything, just dug into his pocket and pulled out a flip phone. He tossed it to Frank, who caught it before it could land in her lap.

 

“Call her,” he ordered him, voice brooking no argument. Frank leveled his gaze at him for a long moment before looking at the phone. “Don’t do that, Frank. Just...just fucking call her. Okay? Don’t start thinking stupid and running off making half-baked plans before you talk to her. Trust me, man. Out of all the shitbags I’ve met in my life, you’re one of the few who actually deserves something good.”

 

He looked back up at David, who seemed to be struggling with himself. Struggling not to say something more. What it was, Frank would never be able to guess. David had lost his whole life and got it back. Frank just lost.

 

David didn’t bother to keep talking, didn’t bother making any further arguments. He just left Frank with the phone in his hands, staring at it.

 

A phone call couldn’t hurt.

 

Frank stepped out onto the front porch, eyes darting around as he moved into the shadow. It would take a while before he was even remotely comfortable being out in the open. He wasn’t trying to kid himself, he’d never feel normal, but it would be nice to move around in public without evading tails.

 

It rang twice.

 

“ _Karen Page_.”

 

He shut his eyes against the sound of her voice, sweet and smooth and a balm against his ragged nerves. He inhaled softly.

 

“You answer every call from unregistered numbers?”

 

Her soft chuckle drifted over the phone; it sounded a combination of relieved and amused with something lighter thrown in.

 

“ _Well, you know, it could be some asshole source who likes to leave through elevators.”_

 

It was his turn to laugh because he could hear the smile in her voice despite the annoyance. He liked the sound of her voice; he’d thought about calling her dozens of times in the months since he’d met her. But he was a coward when it came to Karen Page, always had been. She was just so fierce in the face of his bullshit.

 

“Hey,” he greeted her properly, unable to come up with anything better. Her sigh ghosted through the line.

 

“ _Hey_ .” He blinked, shaking his head. She sounded too soft, too sweet. Like that day when he’d pushed his way back into her life, brought her flowers. “ _Are you safe_?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“ _Where are you?_ ”

 

“Liebermans’. You?”

 

“ _Just got home. You said his name, does that mean--?”_

 

He was nodding before he could answer. “Back home with his family. All clear.”

 

“ _Good_ ,” she sighed, sounding genuinely happy about it. Karen was like that, empathizing to the point of insanity. “ _That’s really good, Frank_.” It almost sounded like praise, like he was single-handedly responsible for bringing David Lieberman back from the dead. Typical, underplaying her role in making the world less of a shithole.

 

“You okay?” he asked, not understanding why his voice sounded like that. Well, he _knew_ why he sounded like that.

 

He heard her sniff. “ _Yeah. I’m okay. Couple of scratches. Minor concussion from the blast. Boss won’t let me come in.”_

 

“Good,” he huffed. “You should rest.”

 

“ _What about you?”_

 

“What about me?” he countered.

 

“ _Are you hurt?”_

 

“Coupla scratches,” he echoed with thinly veiled sarcasm. No doubt she’d heard what happened at the park. Karen was usually tapped into that kind of thing. David said she’d set up a pretty extensive alert system for everything Punisher-related. Her answering snort was probably the cutest thing he’d heard in a while.

 

“ _Yeah, for some reason I don’t believe you.”_ She paused. “ _When can I see you?_ ”

 

Frank’s brain must have tripped some wire or flipped some switch because he was having trouble processing and answering that question. By all accounts, she should want nothing to do with him. She should have been grateful he was out of her life. Should have worked to keep it that way. But there she was, on the phone, voice whisper soft and breathy, asking to see him. He cleared his throat.

 

“ _Frank?_ ”

 

“You--you want to?”

 

“ _Yeah_.”

 

His body nearly caved in on itself, her grip on the phone so tight that it would probably break. He had to fight off the images that flashed through his head: Karen in the low lights of her apartment, probably in soft clothing, curled up on the couch, hair down around her shoulders. He tried not to think about him there with her, think about her climbing into his lap, bodies curved toward each other, her hands in his hair, lips on his ear. He hung his head, shifting his weight. He wanted to hear that sound from her again. Real bad.

 

“Liebermans asked me to stay for dinner--”

 

“ _Oh, that’s--”_

 

“When can--?”

 

“ _Tonight. Later. After,”_ she insisted.

 

“You--”

 

“ _Soon as you can_.”

 

“Okay,” he agreed.

 

“ _Okay_.”

 

“Kay. Don’t leave your door unlocked.”

 

He could practically hear her smile. “ _See you soon.”_

 

“See you.”

 

*

 

Frank was stoic in his efforts to ignore David’s and Sarah’s inquiring looks over dinner. The kids asked the adults around them a thousand questions they’d not been allowed to ask before. Frank and their parents answered carefully and with an infinite amount of patience. Until they were sent to clean up for bed. It was a school night, after all.

 

Frank helped clear away dinner with David while Sarah interrogated _them_ about what they had actually been up to. They exchanged half looks, communicating silently about what they would and wouldn’t say. Let’s put it this way: David was useless. He told her pretty much everything, making Frank hang his head in exasperated dismay.

 

“So,” Sarah sang mischievously, sidling over to Frank, “who were you on the phone with out there?”

 

Frank lifted his brows at her and tried very, very hard not to look at Lieberman, who was practically brimming with eagerness.

 

“No--”

 

“Karen!” David blurted out. “Her name’s Karen.” Frank smacked him upside the head and David threw an accusing finger at him. “Pete’s got a hard on for her,” Frank’s jaw dropped incredulously, “She’s a writer for the _Bulletin_. Badass. Saved his life. He’s in love with her but won’t do anything about it!”

 

“ _Asshole_ ,” Frank hissed, defeated.  

 

Sarah waggled her brows at him, “I coulda told you that. I know that voice. David used to talk to me like that.”

 

“Hey, I still talk to you like that,” he argued. Frank scowled, sick of their shit.

 

“I did not have a _voice_.”

 

“Oh you so did,” Sarah teased, shoving at his shoulder. “It was that sweet _I love you too baby_ _see you soon baby can’t wait to see you baby_ voice.”

 

“Fuck you, Sarah.”

 

The couple laughed at him.

 

“Pete and Karen sittin’ in a tree--”

 

“Son of a--” He looked at them pointedly as he tossed a dishrag at them. “I’m _leaving_. Dickbags.”

 

He stalked out of the house to their taunting, not bothering to return the burner David had given him. He was grabbing his jacket off the hook when he saw Leo sitting on the stairs. She was obviously waiting for him. So he paused, leaning against the banister and waiting for her. She turned those big, brown eyes on him, reminding him painfully of Lisa.

 

“You leaving?” she asked, throat sounding dry. He nodded.

 

“For tonight.”

 

She nodded, looking down at her hands. “Are those men gonna come back for my dad?”

 

“No kid, it’s done. Don’t you worry about it, all right? Nothing’s gonna happen to you, your dad, or anybody. Not while I’m around. Got it?”

 

“Got it,” she whispered. Then she bit her lip. “You gonna go see yer girlfriend?” Her cheeks were tinged red and he smiled ruefully, sneering in her parents’ direction.

 

“Yeah,” Frank answered slowly. “Sorta. If she’ll have me.”

 

“Why wouldn’t she?” Leo asked with a frown. Frank grinned at that. The kid was probably the one person in the world who had zero doubts in him as a human being. Misguided, maybe, but nice.

 

He shrugged, “It’s--messy. Sometimes adults do--stupid shit. Stuff they can’t take back, you know? Makes things complicated.”

 

“That’s what Mom always says. That it’s _complicated_ ,” she grumbled. Frank lifted a foot to nudge her.

 

“Well, she’s right. Adults do that on purpose sometimes. Make things complicated.”

 

“Why?”

 

Leo Lieberman, everyone. From the mouth of babes.

 

“Stupid reasons,” he answered honestly. “Cause they’re scared.”

 

“Are you scared?”

 

Frank tilted his head at that. “Bit.”

 

Leo pulled her lips tight, looking upset at that. But out of everybody, this kid deserved the truth for once. Even if it was a shitty truth. Frank wasn’t a fucking superhero. Leo needed to know that. But he saw so much of Lisa in her, and it crippled him. Gutted him to see her doubt.

 

“Look at me, kid.” She lifted her eyes to his, big and vulnerable. “Ain’t nothing wrong with bein’ afraid. Fear means you’re breathing. What you decide to do with that fear is how you live. Don’t you forget that.”

 

“Was my dad afraid?” she asked quietly.

 

“Yeah. All the time. He could have stayed gone. But he used that fear. He put it to work and he found me, so he could get home. To you. To your mom and your brother. Fear is useful, Leo,” he told her firmly. “Tells your brain to make a decision. Forces your body to act. Means you’ve got something worth losing.”

 

She nodded and so did Frank. Then he pulled out the stupid flip phone and handed it to her.

 

“Put your number in there.” She did and then he took it and called her phone. “You need to talk, you call me, you understand? Day or night. You call.” Without warning, she got up and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him, her little body wracked by sobs. Frank rubbed a soothing hand up and down her back, shushing her, promising to be back soon. It must have been loud enough to draw attention because David came into the foyer looking concerned. Frank nodded reassuringly, making sure he knew that everything was fine.

 

“Lees? C’mere, baby,” David said gently. Leo squeezed Frank’s neck one more time and kissed his cheek before going to her father. Frank slid on his jacket and reached out to clasp David’s hand.

 

“Don’t be a stranger,” David told him, warning. “I mean it.”

 

“I won’t.”

 

*

 

He stood outside of her apartment building for a long few minutes, hesitating despite all of his affirmations earlier. There was a vase of white peonies in the window. Fresh, too. She’d probably put them there as soon as she was released from Homeland’s custody.

 

 _Means you’ve got something worth losing_. Fuck, yes, yes he did. Keeping Karen at arm’s length meant keeping her forever in this perfect state. He could grow old like that, knowing she was safe and happy and thought of him occasionally. That would have been enough for him. But she’d asked him. She’d asked him to come. And there was very little he could deny Karen Page.

 

So in he went, getting past her building’s shitty security with ease, up to her floor, to her door. In a move so unfamiliar to him: he knocked.

 

Frank wasn’t sure what he was expecting. He usually saw her in prim pencil skirts, billowy blouses, dark colors and pastels that brought out the sharp blue streaks in her eyes. He’d never seen her out of her heels, without her purse, out of order. Except in that damn hotel when Lewis had tried to blow them to bits. His side winced in protest at the thought. That bullet he’d taken to the ribs had been no joke. Cracked a few, bruised him worse.

 

He definitely wasn’t expecting to see her in sleep shorts and strappy tank top, hair up in a messy bun. Just--unnecessarily sexy, tripping his brain from sane to pervert without hesitation or remorse.

 

“ _Frank_ ,” she breathed out, eyes wide like she hadn’t expected him to show. Silly thing. Before he could resist, Karen was pulling him into the apartment, deadbolting the door several times over. Then she spun on her heel and threw her arms around his neck, bringing them belly to belly, hips to hips. Frank’s arms were tight around her, bracing her up against him. She rubbed her cheek against his hair, and he could feel her heartbeat pulsing in her belly, hard and strong and too fast. Frank pressed his nose behind her ear, just letting himself hold her. It was almost too much.

 

“Thought I lost you,” she whispered after a while, still not releasing him.

 

“Not that easy to get rid of,” was his raspy response. He sounded broken, even to his own ears. But Karen pulled back, just enough to get a look at his face. She lifted a hand to the still-healing wound on his head, fingertips dancing alongside it.

 

“Good.” She slid out of his grasp, but kept hold of his hand. “Want a drink?”

 

Frank let her go a few paces from him but didn’t budge. He used her hand to tug her back, turn her back, get her eyes back on him. Frank didn’t want her focus on anything but him. It was an incredibly odd feeling, selfish and possessive. But now that he was there, with her, no mission, no one hunting him, his need for her took over. Nothing to stop it, and he certainly didn’t feel like expending the energy to try. Karen smiled at him, coming back willingly, pressing her free hand to his chest.

 

“No, I don’t want a drink.”

 

She must have felt his heart pounding under her hand. Wasn’t like he had any control of that either. Responded to her. Belonged to her. She might as well know it.

 

“You okay?” she asked warily, probably out of habit. Probably expecting the worst. It gutted him in a way that he hadn’t expected.

 

“Perfect,” Frank answered truthfully.

 

“Frank…”

 

“It’s done. All of it. It’s done. Homeland wiped my record clean, gave me a new identity. I’m a free man.” Karen’s big blue eyes flicked across his face, searching for an indication of something. Deception, maybe? Truth? It was like she’d only half heard what he’d said, only mostly listened but didn’t really process any of it.

 

“It’s done?” she repeated back. Frank just nodded, his throat was too tight to answer properly. “What does that mean for you?”

 

He considered her, carefully, weighing his next words. She deserved that. Then he slid an arm around her waist, slowly pulled her back to him with deliberateness.

 

“S’pose that’s up to you.”

 

“Me.”

 

“Yeah,” Frank confirmed softly, eyes locked on her. He didn’t want to miss a second of her face right then. Not a moment, not a twitch, not a flicker of emotion.

 

“And the Punisher?”

 

He pulled his mouth down. “We can talk terms. Compromise.”

 

There was a flash of a grin on her lips, something quiet and amused, the first signs of her being pulled out of her shock.

 

“Thought compromise was losing.”

 

He pushed a laugh through his nose, looking over her head and back at her.

 

“Murdock tell you that?”

 

“Dad.”

 

That made him snort. Go figure. He knew some of it had to be genetic. No woman was that headstrong on her own without a role model and encouragement. Frank released her hand to bring it to her face, thumb stroking over her cheekbone, fingertips brushing into her hair. His eyes were glued to how he touched her. She leaned into his hand which pulled his eyes back to hers. And he didn’t need much more encouragement than that.

 

He pressed forward to kiss her, a dry press, lips meshing. Something soft and quick, retreated just so before she could respond to him. It wasn’t an advance, it was a question. A proposal she could take or leave. Frank hardly had a second to worry before she was pressing back into him, melding their mouths together. She pulled his upper lip between hers, their kiss surer, anchored. Their noses knocked and Frank tilted his head to deepen it. Karen opened for him with a gasp, allowing his tongue to snake past her lips and make a thorough exploration of her mouth.

 

Karen’s other hand joined the first on his chest and she clenched his jacket tight. She clenched it tight and then was pushing it off his shoulders, and Frank let it fall to the ground with a thud. His hand snaked up her tank top, splaying across bare skin, squeezing at the curve of her side. There was a push and pull, short kisses pressed to each other’s lips, tongues teasing.

 

He groaned in protest when her body started to pull away from him, so he followed. He’d always follow Karen. And she led him smack dab in the middle of his own fantasy. They ducked and dove in as they divested him of his clothes. Before they could get to his pants, Karen was shoving him down on the couch, wriggling out of those damn shorts, and climbing onto his lap.

 

 _Fuck_. She wasn’t wearing underwear. Was that planned? Fuck, she was killing him. His hands clenched tight on her waist when she decided to grind down on him, naked and wet already. His dick hardened to a painful degree and he was having trouble seeing straight. Karen tilted his head back, hands cupping his face, and kissed him long and deep, dipping her tongue between his lips for a taste. She lifted up off of him and Frank frantically shucked off his pants and underwear, kicking them away with a growl before snaking his hands up her shirt to cup her breasts. She moaned so prettily for him, tipping her head back and pushing her hips forward. He used that moment to lift her top off, toss it to the side.

 

“Goddamn, you are gorgeous,” he panted, staring. His hands followed his eyes, massaging her breasts, pinching her nipples. Then he leaned forward to put his mouth where his hands worked. She clutched his head, fingers gripping his hair to keep him where she wanted him. He practically purred, and he thrust up against her.

 

“Shhh,” she dipped to mouth at the shell of his ear, nipping sharply. “I’ve got you, Frank, I’ve got you.” He bit at the curve of her breast before she jerked his mouth back to hers, kissing furiously as she swiveled her hips down on him. She gasped when his dick rubbed over her center, brushed against her clit. He smirked against her lips, snaked a hand between them to work her into a frenzy.

 

Karen panted into his mouth, rubbing against his hand in opposite time. Frank was quickly becoming addicted to the sounds she made for him. It was driving him nuts and he was so hard for her it was hurting.

 

“Condom,” he growled out.

 

“IUD,” she countered easily, tilting his head so she could lick at his neck and pulse point. The whine that escaped his lips bordered on embarrassing.

 

“ _Karen_ ,” he rasped. “Honey, please.”

 

“Please what?” she teased, arching her back to kiss under his jaw. Frank jerked his head back, letting it drop to the back of the couch.

 

“God, touch me, fuck me, don’t care just--” He broke off with a growl when she snaked her hand down to palm and deftly stroke him.

 

“That all for me?”

 

He glowered at her through hooded eyes, chest heaving more than he would have liked.

 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Ms. Page.”

 

“Mmm,” she chuckled, moving to press a hard kiss to his lips. “Sounds like a win-win to me. So much better than a compromise.” Frank gave her a half snarl, half smirk, and clamped his hands on her ass, squeezing. Karen let out a squeal when he lifted her, positioning her so that he could push into her uninhibited, using gravity to shove himself into her fully.

 

“ _Cheater_ ,” she hissed, a smile stretched across her lips as she swiveled to accommodate him.

 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he ground out, lifting his hips and ass off the couch to draw a grunt from her.

 

“Yoga,” she offered dumbly, her hands on his shoulders to keep herself steady. She thrust her hips down sharply in retaliation. “You gonna stop messing around, Mr. Castle?”

 

“ _My pleasure_.” He held onto her body tight, planted his feet flat on the ground, and thrust up into her over and over, the force of it causing her breasts to bounce. Karen’s gasps, moans, and cries were like music to his ears, a symphony of her pleasure, right in his ear as she held onto him. He pistoned into her until she was clenching around him, bearing down, and crying out raggedly before biting down on his shoulder to keep quiet.

 

Frank pumped three more times, teeth gritted, groans and grunts slipping from his own lips until he was spilling into her with satisfied growls. Karen moaned, bit at his lips and licked into his mouth enthusiastically, rhythmically pulsing around him, milking out his orgasm.

 

“Fucking god, woman,” he breathed against her skin. “So good, _gorgeous_.” He lifted his hips against her, making her moan for him again.

 

“ _Yeah_.”

 

There is was, that pretty little voice, that addicting sound. It was probably more satisfying than the orgasm itself. He wondered how many people had heard that voice from her, vowed no one but him would ever hear that voice again. Just him. His.

 

Karen slumped against him, sleep heavy and warm. He held her, cradled her to him. They rested like that for a moment, catching their breath, settling. Karen cuddled into him like she wanted to crawl inside him and not come back out. Frank wanted that, too. When he was able, he got a good grasp on her and stood to walk them to her bed. She moaned at the shift in angle, wrapping her limbs around him, holding herself up. Her hair bun bobbed as they walked and she pressed kisses to the curve of his neck.  

 

She slid down the length of him to get into bed. He’d severely overestimate his abilities, and his body was throbbing in protest at the strain. Frank followed her, flopping onto his back, and intercepting her as she came to rest next to him. His only thought as she kissed down his neck and chest, finding every wound and scar to give attention to, was that she’d ditched her hair band. Her silky, blonde hair was tossed up and over to the side, cascading down his ribs in a pretty curtain. Frank’s fingers played with the ends, fixated, as she played with him.

 

“You okay?” she murmured against his skin, tilting her head to look up at him. She looked _wrecked_. Eyes big and soft, cheeks flushed, lips bruised, hair a mess. Frank’s chest tightened, and he felt insanely protective of her in that vulnerable state. It only intensified when her fingers drifted over his old scars, gentle as could be. He grabbed her hand, threading their fingers together before he got too emotional. Woman didn’t need him weeping all over her after sex the first time.

 

“Yeah,” he answered again. “Ribs hurt, but I’m good.”

 

She rubbed her cheek over his good ribs. “Got a little carried away.”

 

He grinned at her, tongue working back a laugh.

 

“I went right with you, honey.”

 

Karen’s eyes flashed as if a thought had struck her, but she didn’t share it. She just moved herself up and over him, hair falling around them, and dipped down to kiss him. Her lips were sweet and pliant against his, loving and just a little sloppy. She tasted so damn good. They hadn’t gotten around to Frank getting his mouth on her, and part of him almost didn’t want to. Almost. Because once he did he was rarely going to think about anything else except what Karen Page tasted like when she was wet and writhing for him.

 

“You need to sleep,” she said against his lips, body pressing down against his. He chased her mouth, not letting her get too far. She giggled until he thrust his tongue between her lips, curling it against the roof of her mouth. Karen indulged him for a minute before yanking her mouth away.

 

“M’serious, Frank.”

 

“So’m I,” he told her, sliding an arm under her head to kiss her again. Keep her where he wanted her. Again, she let him do as he liked for a few moments before she pulled away.

 

“Be right back,” she whispered, pecking his lips roughly before getting out of bed. Frank groaned like a brat and fell back against her pillows, watching her dash off to the bathroom. Her ass was perfect. No shit, just absolutely perfect. It was going to be burned into his brain for the rest of his life. He draped an arm over his forehead, trying to steady his breathing.

 

Karen was right. He was bone tired; he’d not rested well since before Lewis. Even then he’d slept fitfully in Lieberman’s bolthole cot. And Karen’s bed was stupidly comfortable. Soft enough to cradle but not enough to sink. Felt really good on his back. He tried to keep his eyes open but they kept drifting shut, so he gave up.

 

Karen’s chuckle was soft and pretty in his ear. He felt her slide up against him, body warm and relaxed.

 

“Think I’ll keep you,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. She turned, settling her back against his front, and wriggled that perfect ass into the crook of his body, letting out a contented sighed. Unconsciously, he turned toward her and threw an arm over her waist. Frank dropped his face to the curve between her neck and shoulder, lips against her skin.

 

And he let himself sleep, truly sleep, for the first time in years.

 

*

 

When Frank blinked his eyes open, golden sunlight was streaking into the room. Partly because it was past 8 AM, partly because Karen had soft yellow gold curtain in her bedroom. Speaking of which...He turned to find the bed empty beside him. But there was her .038, out on the bedside table. Good girl. Obviously, she hadn’t gotten very far. His second thought was that he was completely naked and that his clothes were probably scattered around her living room.

 

He was wrong about that. They were folded up neatly at the foot of the bed, his jacket draped over the back of the chair sitting in front of her vanity. No shoes though. He felt the tug of a grin at his lips. At least he knew she was serious. He rolled out of bed, pulled on his shirt, underwear, and jeans, and went out to find her.

 

Much to his surprise, she was perched on the counter, feet flat on its surface, hands cradling a cup of coffee. He moved in that direction, eyes locked on her, and leaned against the entry until she noticed him. When she did, she dropped her head to her shoulder and bit her lip.

 

“Told ya.”

 

He laughed, shaking his head away from her as he tried not to give her the upper hand. Wasn’t working very well. She could have asked him to do anything in that moment and Frank would have done it cheerfully with a stupid smile on his face. Thankfully, she just asked him something simple. Something he wanted.

 

“C’mere.”

 

Frank moved into her space unhesitatingly. His hands slid up her calves and hooked under her knees, drawing them out to make room for him between her legs. Their mouths came together in an easy glide, slotting into place like they’d been doing it forever. Even with Maria it hadn’t been that easy. They’d wanted it to be; fought and scratched and clawed their way into making it so. But it had taken work and effort. They’d just loved each other that much. So he could appreciate the difference. He could appreciate the sameness and difference. With Karen it wasn’t more or less, just different.

 

It didn’t break his heart like he thought it would.

 

Karen pulled out of their kiss and dropped her forehead to his, coffee abandoned on the counter now.

 

“You got somewhere to be?” she asked softly, voice hardly above a whisper. Frank let out a long exhale through his nose, rubbed his forehead against hers.

 

“Right here,” he grumbled back. He felt her smile when she turned to kiss his cheek and jaw.

 

“Ellison wanted to meet today--”

 

“Fuck him,” Frank grunted, not at all willing to entertain the idea of letting her out of his sight. Her light laughter was reward enough. She wrapped her legs around his hips, securing him to her.

 

“And what will I do all day, then?”

 

Frank’s hands tightened on her thighs as he tipped his head back to meet her look. Her expression was soft and happy, and he was stupidly smug that he was even partially involved in putting it there. It wouldn’t last forever, he knew, but he could draw it out for as long as she would allow.

 

“I’ve got a few ideas,” he informed her, voice lower and tighter than he would have liked. It was damn embarrassing, the effect she had on him. Karen tossed her arms over his shoulders, fingers dipping into the small hairs on the back of his neck, and she tilted her head at him.

 

“Really now.”

 

“Mmm,” his eyes dropped right to her mouth and he felt her squirm against him. He had plans for that mouth. And his own.

 

“Skipped a coupla steps last night.”

 

“Doesn’t sound like us.”

 

“Well, I like to be thorough.”

 

Their mouths snapped back together like magnets. It occurred to Frank, quietly, in the back of his mind, that this moment felt like the end of something. The night before had been a transition. A question. A possibility. But this was deliberate. Transformative. An alteration in habits and patterns which could not be ignored.

 

Karen was going to set aside work. Frank was going to stay.

 

Karen was going to let someone take care of her. Frank was going to secure that role in her life with gusto.

 

So, yeah, Ellison, Murdock, that other lawyer, whoever else thought they had a piece of her, they could go fuck themselves. Karen Page was the Punisher’s girl now, and everybody was going to damn well know it.

 

With a smirk, he decided he’d start with her neighbors.

  



End file.
